


The Fact of the Matter

by aeowa



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Bickering, Blow Jobs, Crack, Dialogue Heavy, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Smut, Woosan, i dont know how to write anything that isnt a shitpost, i love these gays and theres nothing you can do to stop me, listen this is a mess, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 07:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeowa/pseuds/aeowa
Summary: San and Wooyoung had a complicated relationship. Not complicated in a bad way, no. Everything they had was good. Great, even. It was just… complicated. Hard to explain, and hard to understand. Labels didn’t really work for them.





	The Fact of the Matter

**Author's Note:**

> if woosan were charted in a ship diagram they would be horny-feral read more to find out why!
> 
> anyways this is the product of me wondering if anyone else loves San's neck freckles as much as i do because i can do what i want

San liked picnics. Well, he liked the idea of picnics, but he never had the pleasure to partake in one. Until now.

“Will you pass me the watermelon?” San asked his friend, Seonghwa.

Said friend nodded and carefully handed San a large bowl of the cubed fruit. As San was selecting the most red pieces for himself, his other friend, Wooyoung, reached into the bowl with his bare hands and picked a piece of fruit from the center.

“Gross,” San joked.

“Shut up, you spit your coke back into the bottle right before you shared it with me yesterday,” Wooyoung retaliated.

“You guys are both gross,” Seonghwa muttered before snatching away the bowl of precious red cubes.

There were eight people spread out on three large blankets picnicking at the city park. The early May weather was rather enjoyable. It was chilly in the shade, but a little bit of sunshine would warm you up right quick. San’s five other friends were occupying themselves with leisure activities: Mingi was playing a disorganized game of Blackjack with Hongjoong and Yunho. They were betting on chocolate chip cookies. Playing a game on his Nintendo Switch was Jongho. Sounds of swishing grass and heavy, clanking footsteps came from the red, black, and blue device. He was laying down next to Yeosang, who was dozing off with an open book on his chest. On San’s right was Seonghwa, who was sorting through the dozen polaroid photos he had taken during the course of the afternoon. Wooyoung was off to the left removing his shoes.

“What are you doing now?” San asked Wooyoung.

“I’m taking my shoes off so I don’t get the blankets dirty, duh.” Wooyoung scooted towards a sun patch and reclined into a blanketed space that wasn’t occupied by containers of food. He closed his eyes and released a big breath.

“Well you can put your shoes right back on, Wooyoung. I wanna see you climb that tree again,” Jongho piped up from the other end of the blanket settlement. His focus was still on the device.

“No. Why don’t _ you _ climb the tree this time, Mr. Hero of Hyrule?” Wooyoung said without opening his eyes.

“I’d like to see that,” Seonghwa added while putting a lid on the bowl of watermelon.

“But it’s not fun if only Jongho does it. Hit me,” Mingi said to Yunho, who was the card dealer.

“I agree. Why don’t you join him, Mingi? See if you can climb faster than Jongho. A little friendly competition?” San mused.

“You do have the height advantage. Hit or stand?” Yunho asked Hongjoong, who was totally sneaking looks at Mingi’s cards.

“You don’t stand a chance against me.”

“Bet?” Mingi was already on his feet.

“Blackjack!”

“Hongjoong, you don’t have to shout ‘blackjack’ if you got a perfect twenty-one,” Yunho shook his head as he collected the cards. Hongjoong shoved a cookie in his mouth and stood up.

Suddenly, everyone was on their feet (except Wooyoung and Yeosang, who were most likely asleep, and San, who was busy putting wildflowers and weeds in Wooyoung’s light blonde hair). Jongho and Mingi abandoned their respective games and set off towards the tall oak tree 90 meters to the left. Yunho already had his phone out recording the whole ordeal. Hongjoong and Seonghwa shared a look, and followed their friends.

San had pulled up the few flowers within arms reach, so when the grass patch became desolate of the delicate things, he reached into his bag and retrieved a notebook and pencil. Flipping to a blank page, San began to sketch Wooyoung’s sleeping form. The sound of his friends’ voices traveled towards him. They sounded happy.

Laughter floated through the air. Somewhere in the park, a person was playing a smooth, melancholic tune on a clarinet. Lumpy shadows passed through the grass at a leisurely pace. Sunshine faded in and out. San could feel the warmth of the Sun’s rays on the back of his neck. He hoped they could have more picnics like this in the future.

Without paying much attention, San was flipping the page of his notebook to a fresh page. This time, he drew confident lines as he copied Wooyoung’s visage onto the paper. San was trying to get the curve of his model’s bottom lip, so he leaned closer for a better look. The fourth time San glanced away from his sketch, Wooyoung’s eyes were open and looking right at him.

San shifted his focus back to the sketch, and was suddenly very fixated on adding texture to the hair.

“What’re you lookin’ at? Am I wearing somethin’ of yours?” the blonde asked. San could hear the smirk on his lips.

“I’m looking at you. Don’t move, I’m almost done,” San replied.

Wooyoung moved, of course. He wiggled about on the blankets, shifted some stuff around, and finally planted his head in San’s lap.

“Oh, you’re gonna be my table now? How thoughtful,” San said with a quirked brow as he flipped the page again. He laid the notebook on Wooyoung’s chest. San tried drawing the wildflowers he had pulled up earlier (there were still four in Wooyoung’s hair), but couldn’t get the delicacy just right. He could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on him, but kept focus on his notebook (though his pencil had stopped moving). San glanced to Yeosang who looked very asleep. He took a shallow breath through his nose, hoping Wooyoung wouldn’t _ try anything. _

San and Wooyoung had a complicated relationship. Not complicated in a bad way, no. Everything they had was good. Great, even. It was just… complicated. Hard to explain, and hard to understand. San disliked both the terms “friends with benefits” and “fuck buddies”. Not only because they put a bad taste in his mouth, but because they were inaccurate. San and Wooyoung were friends above all. Best friends. Anything else that happened between them was just… details. Labels didn’t really work for them.

Details like the first time they kissed happening because San was too drunk and wondered what it felt like to kiss another guy, and Wooyoung was all too happy to show him the ropes. Details like they almost had drunk sex but thank God neither of them had a condom (that time around) otherwise who knows what chaos could have been unleashed. Details like neither of them knowing what to do about it the day after, trying to pretend it didn’t happen, and ending up feeling like strangers for the following 24 hours. Details like meeting during the free time in between classes to sit in the grass of their college’s central plaza and just talk about it, and then making that part of their routine. Details like getting too comfortable with each other during movie nights, sitting too close at restaurants, standing too close in public, (San getting lost in the feeling of Wooyoung’s skin against his own in private), and having too many sleepovers. Details like one person always reaching out to touch and feel, no matter the setting. Like San constantly grabbing Wooyoung’s hand, the back of his neck, his face, arm, thigh, waist, hip.

But the confusion comes when San thinks too much. Which, as of late, he has been doing a lot. The confusion comes when Wooyoung distracts San from his homework just by looking at him, and then San finds he doesn’t mind the interruption. (He actually relishes the attention.) The confusion comes during the aftermath of “fooling around” when they come close again and fall asleep to each other’s breathing. The confusion comes when the L-word pops into San’s mind at the worst times. Does he love Wooyoung? Of course, he loves all of his friends. They are the best thing in his life right now, and he couldn’t ask for better people to know. But romantic love… _ that _ L-word. That’s the danger zone.

So yeah, they had a complicated relationship, but that wasn’t a “bad” thing.

“Y’ever count the freckles on your neck, San?” the blonde asked after a long and comfortable silence.

“Hm?” San hummed his responding question as Wooyoung sat up. He positioned himself sitting cross-legged directly in San’s line of vision.

“The freckles on the right side of your neck. Do you know how many there are?” Wooyoung clarified.

“Uh, no…” San’s abandoned attempt at wildflowers was exposed in his lap.

“No as in you haven’t counted, or no as in you don’t know?”

“Both?”

“D’you wanna know?”

San only cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“There are at least twenty. You know where freckles come from? My grandmother told me that freckles are actually kisses from angels you get when you’re a kid. Since angels come down from heaven and it’s so bright up there, the place on your skin where they kiss you becomes darker.”

“Okay, but do you believe that stuff anymore?”

“You callin’ my grandmother a liar? Need proof?”

To San’s dismay, Wooyoung _ tried something. _ Before San could register the closeness, the blonde ducked his head and lightly pressed his lips to San’s neck.

And then San’s brain short circuited. He literally felt all thought processes stop─ maybe even his heart, too─ and then pick back up again at an extraordinary pace. His heart hammered hard in his chest for a moment, or two.

Wooyoung pulled back slowly. San’s whole body heated up. He hoped his face wasn’t too red. He tried to discreetly wipe the sweat forming on his palms. San’s neck was a very sensitive place, especially when it comes to kissing, _ especially _ when it’s Wooyoung kissing him like that.

“Still don’t believe me? Need more proof?” Wooyoung leaned close again with a smirk twitching at his lips, and San had to put his hands on Wooyoung’s shoulders to protect his last shred of dignity that was about to slip away.

“I think made─ you made your point,” San stammered. In his nervousness, he glanced at Yeosang, hoping he was still asleep. The blonde stopped immediately. 

“Everything okay?” Wooyoung murmured. Suddenly, his demeanor changed. Perhaps he noticed San’s tension.

“Yeah. Yes. All good,” San looked at everything but Wooyoung. He saw his friends drop from the tree and head back towards the picnic setup.

“San, I─”

“I’m good, really,” San touched his friend’s arm tenderly. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“Sensitive.”

Wooyoung nodded.

San felt like he messed up big time.

But why?

“So, what’s the verdict?” Wooyoung called to Seonghwa who finally rejoined them.

“Mingi has zero control over those long limbs,” Seonghwa shrugged.

“No surprise there.”

~

San was suspicious.

Wooyoung was acting strange… er the whole day following the picnic. It wasn’t like he was walking on eggshells around San, but he was keeping an excruciating distance. (In reality, he probably touched San about 20% less frequently than normal, and didn’t try to take over San’s lap as free real estate even once.)

On the first day after the picnic, San was confused. On the second day, things seemed back to normal with Wooyoung. Maybe even a little more than normal.

San’s brain was getting messed with. This is exactly why he calls his relationship with Wooyoung complicated. When they held hands, his grip on San’s hand was a bit tighter. When they would share a laugh, Wooyoung would lean into San a bit more. When they laid in the grass together and let the spring sunlight pour over them, Wooyoung was sure to be consistently touching some part of San, and it seemed like his hand would drift towards bare skin.

On the third day, San was very sure of his suspicions after he and Wooyoung emerged from their college’s library stacks looking for some book on arctic marine life evolution.

San needed the book, and the blonde tagged along “for the adventure”. The librarian led them to the underground bookshelves and pointed them to the end of the hallway. She then headed back upstairs after reminding the pair about the rules of the stacks.

“What’s this book for, again?” Wooyoung whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” San whispered back.

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to whisper in libraries?” Wooyoung asked at a regular volume. He slipped his hand into San’s and squeezed. The grip was as tight as the one he had on San’s heart.

San squeezed back.

“Well, yeah, but these are the stacks and we’re the only ones down here. I think we’re fine. Here it is,” San nodded towards a shelf labelled, “Marine Research: Poles and Extremeties”. He pulled his friend down the narrow aisle. The pair moved slowly to check the surnames plastered across the spines. Most of the books looked identical. They were of the same old, murky, brown leather with delicate imprints of words filled in with what looked like gold paint. Other modern-looking books were freckled in the shelves. The books were pretty in the same way that they were dull.

San finally found his book on a shelf at shoulder-height. The name “Herman” was printed across the top of the spine.

“Finally,” San huffed. He pulled the book off the shelf and flipped it open to the table of contents.

“What, is this not the right book?” Wooyoung’s voice came from over San’s right shoulder.

“I’m just checking to make sure the essays I need are in this edition.”

The blonde hummed his reply. He hooked his chin on San’s shoulder and placed his left arm across the top of San’s backpack. Wooyoung’s fingers carded through the long hair covering San’s nape.

San flipped to the mid-end of the book, trying to skim the introduction of the essay he really needed─ the whole reason he was down in the stacks retrieving the book. But he couldn’t focus. Not with Wooyoung literally breathing down his neck, or his hand creeping around somewhere, or the fact that San could feel the blonde plastered to his side. He was blankly staring at the page with an empty head.

With another breath rushing down his shirt, the dark-haired felt goosebumps break out across his skin. He did a fair job at containing the shiver that threatened to vibrate his whole body, but his mind was in disarray. His dignity shattered when he felt pressure on the side of his neck.

San inhaled sharply and slammed the book closed. He almost smashed into the shelves from the surprise, which would have been terribly awkward and difficult to explain to anyone. He did drop his book, though, before exclaiming, “_ What _ are you doing?!”

The blonde jumped and held his hands up in surrender. “Nothing!”

“Wooyoung,” San scolded. He reached for the book on the floor. “Stop messing around.”

“But I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Yet?” The dark-haired stood up quickly without retrieving the book, as if he had misheard his friend from all the way down on the floor.

“Loosen up a bit, San,” Wooyoung came close until he had San backed up against the bookshelves. He caged him in with arms, and though San was several inches taller than his friend, Wooyoung managed to be very imposing. His gaze was focused and intense.

“How m’I supposed to do that when y─” San was effectively shut up when Wooyoung finally kissed him. Contrary to what he was going to say, San immediately relaxed.

“When I what?” The blonde asked after breaking the kiss.

San wasn’t sad at all that it was short-lived. Wooyoung handed the dark-haired his fallen book.

“Nevermind,” San held the book to his chest. “Let’s go.”

~

San was frustrated.

Wooyoung was messing with him. San was sure of it. There could be no explanation other than Wooyoung knew _ something, _ and was taking advantage of this knowledge. San had an inkling of an idea, but it was only that. On the fourth day, Wooyoung was being far more affectionate and touchy than normal, which is a significant amount if San was able to notice.

He invited San to a movie night at his flat, which could mean one of two things.

One: San and Wooyoung would watch at least one movie, and then they would order a pizza, try to watch another movie, but then one or both of them would fall asleep.

Two: San and Wooyoung would try to watch one movie, and then end up banging in Wooyoung’s bedroom.

Both are equally plausible, and have happened many times in the past.

So San accepted, but he had a plan. He was gonna get to the bottom of this situation, and figure out why Wooyoung has been acting so different, and what exactly he knows.

(And if they end up banging in Wooyoung’s bedroom, so be it.)

San arrived at Wooyoung’s apartment that he shared with Mingi 15 minutes later than planned. He ran through his plan twice while making his way to the second floor and shuffling to a door at the end of a long corridor with too many turns.

The blonde greeted San with a bright smile, and wearing shorts and a large, white shirt that read, “100% Natural” in bright blue across the chest. 

“San! What took you so long?”

“San’s here?” Mingi suddenly appeared in the doorway. “ Damn, too bad I’ll miss you. I’m going to karaoke and then Bunker Bar.” He swung a jacket on in one swift motion, and pat San’s shoulder as he slipped past the pair.

“Oh, bye, Mingi! See you tomorrow?” The dark-haired suggested. He took a step over the threshold into the apartment. Wooyoung’s hand moved magnetically to the nape of his neck.

“Don’t die, Mingi! Call me if you need anything!” Wooyoung called out.

Mingi held up a hand in parting and disappeared down the corridor.

“Are we doing a comedy or a new movie? I’ve added some interesting ones to my watch list. We can Netflix it out tonight.” Wooyoung closed the door and ushered San into the main room.

It was then that San acknowledged option two was far more probable now that they would surely be alone for the remainder of the night.

He had to remind himself to stick to the plan.

They decided on a new action movie. Wooyoung urged San to prepare the sofa (a.k.a. pull out all the pillows and blankets that were stuffed in a wooden storage box behind the sofa) while he went off to prepare snacks. So San did his best, but became distracted when he realized he didn’t actually know how to begin his interrogation. He knew _ what _ he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know _ how. _

Everything was business as usual for the first half hour of the movie. San was actually enjoying it─ he was comfortably reclined on the sofa─ but it became obvious that Wooyoung had other plans.

“Did you use that book from the stacks yet?” The blonde asked. His voice came from San’s left shoulder which he was leaning on.

“Not yet. I don’t actually need it for, like, a week, but I wanted to make sure no one else would take it.” The dark-haired kept his eyes on the movie. He remembered his frustrations and unconsciously set his jaw. _ He _ was the one who was supposed to ask questions.

“Keeping a leg-up on your peers, eh?”

“Something like that.”

What San really wanted was a leg-up on this situation.

The pair fell silent.

Now was San’s chance. He was speaking before he could predict what would come out of his mouth. “You been feeling okay?” He wanted to slap himself in the face.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Wooyoung sat up while speaking.

San’s brain was screaming, _ Abort mission! Abort! _ “N-nevermind. It’s nothing.”

“Lemme guess, it’s just… sensitive?”

“Maybe?” San’s focus was no longer on the screen. The movie was forgotten, and so was San’s plan because he suddenly had a lapful of Wooyoung. His hands gravitated to Wooyoung’s bare thighs. 

Just like in the library, Wooyoung had San trapped. This time around, however, the dark-haired was the opposite of relaxed. Wooyoung came close and kissed him deeply. San was lost right then and there. His last fragment of focus was gone, swept away in the euphoria of beholding Wooyoung and kissing him and being kissed by him. Surely, there was nothing that could beat the feeling. The blonde quickly shifted, though, and pressed an innocent kiss onto San’s pulse.

And then San moaned aloud, slapped a hand over his mouth, and wished for nothing more than to be buried in the Earth.

“I think _ I’m _ the one who should be asking if you’re feeling okay,” Wooyoung said while pulling back and shaking his blonde hair out of his eyes. There was a mischievous grin pulling up the corners of his mouth.

“Oh my god, I wanna die,” San covered his face as the embarrassment rose exponentially. “I didn’t mean to do that.” His voice was muffled by his hands, but he didn’t dare move them.

“Didn’t you?”

San split his fingers to peek at the blonde.

“You think I haven’t caught on yet,” Wooyoung accused.

“What do you mean?” San mumbled.

“_ You _,” Wooyoung grabbed San’s wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. “Have a thing for neck kissing. A kink?”

“Don’t call it a kink.”

“It’s totally a kink.”

San whined in protest.

“And you didn’t tell me! Of course, I figured it out soon enough. After your little episode at the park during our picnic, I was initially worried that I had done something wrong. But then I… did a little research of my own, if you will. And my, my, my, the findings are certainly astonishing.”

“So is that why you’ve been acting so… different? So clingy?” San tried to motion with his hands, as was his habit, but Wooyoung held them in a tight restraint.

“You think I’m clingy?”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing! Just different!”

“I know, I’m just messin’ with ya,” Wooyoung chuckled and pecked San’s lips.

“Yeah, you’ve been doing that all week,” San said with a huff. It was kind of hard to be mad while the blonde was perched on his lap like this, but San did his best.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know?”

Wooyoung gave San an incredulous look. It was justified because San was technically lying. He knows his neck is sensitive, but he didn’t know neck kissing was a thing for him until it happened in a very regular context.

“I didn’t put two and two together,” San settled.

“Well, since I seem to have you figured out, do I get a reward?”

“You do _ not _ have me ‘figured out’.”

“Bet?”

San would have folded his arms in the face of this challenge, were they not still restrained.

“I know you like the back of my hand, San. I know you are ticklish,” the blonde demonstrated by finally releasing San’s arms and squeezing his waist. San shrieked out a laugh.

“I know you have four beauty marks on your face, and that the one by your eye is your favourite. I know you bite your nails and smile with your teeth when you’re nervous. You purse your lips when you’re focusing. You can’t see when you laugh because you squint your eyes too much. You like to tuck your hair behind your ear because it’s getting too long, but you refuse to get it cut.” Wooyoung’s fingers became threaded into the long hair at San’s nape.

San unconsciously raised his brows in surprise. Perhaps Wooyoung was right.

The blonde continued. “I know you like eye contact… and when I do this,” Wooyoung grabbed San’s chin with his thumb and forefinger. He met San’s gaze before kissing him deeply. But he wasn’t done talking. The dark-haired wished he would just wrap it up already.

“I know you like me from this angle. I know you like it when I’m on top.”

San scoffed at that, which made Wooyoung cock his head to the side. His stretched his arms forwards and leaned his weight on his hands atop the backrest of the sofa.

And then there was silence. San was holding his breath. He didn’t dare move. Does the human heart normally beat this loudly? He wondered if Wooyoung could hear it, too. His vision was like a freeze-frame; all he could see was Wooyoung. There was a weight hanging over him. An anvil on a frayed rope swayed from the ceiling. He felt too hot. His hoodie was suffocating him. It was moments like this, the silence, the lack of movement, the unreadable expression on Wooyoung’s face that made San unnecessarily worried. That dead-eye stare which presented like a concrete wall. But like always, San’s worries would be replaced with euphoric tranquility all because of Wooyoung. It was always because of Wooyoung.

“Shall I continue?” The blonde said in a low voice. His eyes were on San’s lips.

“You made your point. Now kiss me.”

He felt better now that he realized the cause of his frustrations. San had been waiting to jump Wooyoung’s bones for days.

Wooyoung kissed San─ _ really _ kissed him─ finally, with no restraint. San felt himself sigh into it. He felt himself sink into the couch he was so familiar with. His hands roamed the skin he was constantly intimate with. He wondered when he became so reliant on this feeling of pleasure.

San’s hands were digging into Wooyoung’s waist. He didn’t know if he was holding him down or pressing him closer. He didn’t want to move, but he wanted to do _ something. _ San didn’t know what he wanted besides closeness. Removing clothes would be a good start.

“Get this thing off,” San tugged at the white shirt Wooyoung wore.

“Why?” Wooyoung gave a heavy-lidded stare with a tilted head.

“You’re killing the mood,” San bunched the shirt upwards along Wooyoung’s sides until the blonde had to lift his arms.

“You’re one to talk,” Wooyoung retorted as he was freed from the excessive fabric. He tugged at the strings of San’s hoodie. “What’re you hiding in there?”

“Washboard abs.”

The blonde snorted and roughly ripped down the silver zipper. “Well, that’s disappointing,” he deflated. San was wearing a shirt under the hoodie. Just another obstacle to add to the list.

“Off,” Wooyoung demanded.

As soon as all of San’s layers were gone, Wooyoung was back with even more fervor.

The blonde was grinding down and the dark-haired was arching up to meet him. Wooyoung’s skin was hot under San’s hands.

He wanted more.

Always more.

Wooyoung broke their kiss again and trailed his lips along San’s jaw. San tipped his head back against the sofa, giving full access to his neck. It was an opportunity that the blonde took immediately. Wooyoung worked his mouth. What he said to San’s skin was, _ I know you. _

San’s breathing picked up. Each consecutive exhale was louder and louder until he was actually moaning aloud. San was sure there would be bruises mixed with his freckles. He wanted roses blooming on his skin.

Wooyoung’s hips were working a rhythm while San’s hands worked their way up his thighs.

“You’re so fuckin’ loud,” Wooyoung said into San’s neck.

“Notmyfault,” the dark-haired managed in one breath. He squeezed handfuls of Wooyoung’s ass.

The blonde responded by rocking into San, who felt a hardness pressing against his abdomen. He was a little surprised. _ That was fast. _

“Already?” The dark-haired quirked his brow. “Do we need to establish a rule about hiding kinks?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the ass-man in this relationship,” Wooyoung replied. He placed his hands atop San’s shoulders and slowly stroked down his arms. “Besides, it’s been a while…” His eyes shifted back and forth from San’s chest to his face. Wooyoung avoided San’s eyes.

San blinked at the thought of the last time they did anything like this: Almost one month ago. Realistically, it was not _ that _ long ago, but this time feels different. Not drastically, but noticeably. The last time they fooled around, it was the morning after a crazy night out. Both he and Wooyoung were blackout-drunk, but by the grace of God they made it back to San’s apartment safely. Neither San nor Wooyoung could recall if they had sex before finally falling asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. They made up for lost memories by ruining San’s bedsheets when they finally did wake up.

Obviously, this time around would go differently than all previous times, and San doesn’t have any colossal expectations, but there is something more this time around that never existed before. And it’s not because of San’s new-found “kink”.

“Well,” San finally caught Wooyoung’s eye. “Let’s make up for wasted time.”

Wooyoung’s smile split his face. “I’m gonna suck you off, San.”

If San weren’t wholly turned on right now, that smile would be enough.

The dark-haired tried to get up so they could move to the bedroom, but Wooyoung wasn’t budging.

“No, here. Horny now. Bed too far.” Wooyoung put a hand on San's bare chest. There was no way he didn’t feel San’s heart rate pick up.

“I’m not responsible for cleaning up,” the dark-haired stated.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wooyoung waved him off. “Strip and get supine.”

San wriggled out from underneath Wooyoung and basically ripped his jeans off. If only they were tear-away sweatpants. _ What was I thinking? Who the fuck wears jeans to their dick appointment? _

The dark-haired shoved a pillow under his head and propped himself on the armrest. Wooyoung kneeled in between San’s legs. He was suddenly aware (and grateful) of how large the sofa really was. San eyed the bulge in Wooyoung’s shorts. He wondered how hard he really was at this point. He hoped he could return the favour in time.

Wooyoung’s fingers were already pulling at the waistband of San’s boxers when a gunshot sound came from the TV. They left the fucking movie on.

“Oh my god, we left the movie on. Hold that thought,” the dark-haired sat up and snatched the remote from the floor. He pressed the “OFF” button so hard he could have crushed the device. Wooyoung watched San toss the remote across the room with an aggravated, pursed lip. “I thought it seemed a little loud in here.”

“Now _ you’re _ killing the mood.” Wooyoung held onto San’s legs.

“I’m not the one who wanted to watch that movie.”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t know we would be Netflix and chilling tonight.”

“Don’t pinch me, Wooyoung!” San whined.

“What’s the magic word?”

“How’s about _ I _ suck _ your _ dick? Maybe then you’ll put a pin in it.”

“I’m a man of my word,” Wooyoung argued, finally reaching for San’s boxers and pulling them low enough so that his erection was freed.

“Finally.” San brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and reclined again.

Wooyoung hovered before pumping his fist twice on San’s cock. His tongue came out and licked slowly across the head before taking the whole thing in his mouth. He bobbed his head down halfway and then came back up, his mouth making a popping noise as he came off. With one hand, the blonde worked San’s cock as his tongue licked along the underside. Pleasure pooled in San’s gut as he stuttered out semi-coherent words. Wooyoung’s tongue came out again and circled around the head.

“Not to stroke your ego, but when did you get good at this?” San questioned with a furrowed brow.

“Natural talent,” Wooyoung dead-panned. He took the whole dick in his mouth and sucked all the way down. San’s hands reached for something to hold onto. He found purchase in Wooyoung’s hair. They made eye contact as Wooyoung moved upwards and popped off again.

San was literally being blown away. He pressed his head back into the pillow. If Wooyoung did that again, San would surely come too soon. Was he sex deprived? Is that was this is all about?

No, _ no. _ It’s not that simple.

San’s brain was too fuzzy to think properly. He couldn’t focus on anything but the flames in his gut.

“San,” the blonde said. His voice was wrecked. San opened his eyes (he hadn't realized he had closed them) and met Wooyoung’s gaze. The lighting was dim, but there was a visible flush on his face, neck, and chest. His bottom lip was swollen and covered in saliva. San reached out and brushed the blonde hair out of his face.

Wooyoung kissed the inside of San’s thigh. “Stay with me, buddy.”

“Don’t call me buddy when you’re sucking my dick,” San’s voice shook with a nervous laugh.

Wooyoung ignored him. “What are you thinking about?”

“I don’t know. Too much.” San was being thrown for a loop. He rubbed his hands up and down his face a little too hard.

“Can you elaborate?”

“I’m thinking about you, for one.”

“Good.” Wooyoung crawled up the length of San’s body and put his full weight down before kissing him.

“You’re gross,” San complained. Wooyoung knew that San didn’t really _ like _ kissing after blowjobs, but he did it anyways. (San hadn’t even come yet, so it wasn’t terrible.) It was only the initial taste that San wasn’t siked about. Wooyoung always said he was training San to like it. He shoved his tongue in San’s mouth. He knew that San liked that.

The dark-haired pushed his hands past the waistband of Wooyoung’s shorts and groped the flesh of his ass. Wooyoung sighed out a moan into San’s mouth. The fabric of Wooyoung’s shorts (and Wooyoung’s own dick) was rubbing against San’s dick. He couldn’t tell if it actually felt good. He was too turned on to decide. Luckily, Wooyoung distracted San by licking a long trail up his neck before biting harshly. San swore aloud.

If only he knew just how sensitive he was. To think, all the levels of horny he _ could _ have been ages ago when he and Wooyoung started doing this.

San shifted his hand around in Wooyoung’s shorts until it was in the space between their bodies. Wooyoung whispered a “fuck” when San’s hand finally came into contact with his dick. He breathed hard into San’s neck as the dark-haired stroked him fully. San wanted to feel more of everything. There wasn’t enough of Wooyoung’s body touching his own.

“Get these off,” San snapped the waistband of Wooyoung’s shorts. The blonde stripped in three seconds.

“You too,” Wooyoung said before tugging San’s boxers the rest of the way off.

With their clothes in crumpled piles on the floor, San had unlimited access. He felt like he had just reached an oasis after a helpless desert journey.

“Are you close?” San asked

“Yeah, but I still wanna suck you off.” Wooyoung propped himself on his hands above San. “Is that okay?”

“Y- Yeah”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I’m just impressed at how coherent you are.” _ Because _ I _ feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. _

“Like I said. Natural talent.” Wooyoung shimmied down San’s body and kissed the skin below his navel. His lips moved closer to San’s erection at an agonizing pace. And then he veered to the side and started mouthing at San’s thigh again. If it didn’t feel so good, San would surely complain.

Wooyoung got right back to it, though, swirling his tongue and bobbing his head and fisting the base of San’s cock. San was being pushed closer and closer to the edge. He could feel himself clenching and his toes twitching and his head buzzing.

“Fuck, Wooyoung, I’m gonna-”

“Come in my mouth.”

The wet heat of Wooyoung’s mouth on his length mixed with that vulgar command was enough. San came with a moan broken by Wooyoung’s name. The blonde was unfazed (as far as San could tell in his fucked out state) by the load in his mouth. He merely swallowed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He made sure that San was watching him.

“Fucking hell, come here.” San breathed deeply as he pulled Wooyoung up from his position. 

“You… you haven’t come yet,” San stated as he reached for Wooyoung’s neglected cock. It was leaking precome all over his belly. San used it as lube while jerking his fist. “I’ll literally do anything you want. I just wanna make it good for you, too.”

Wooyoung moaned at the long-awaited contact. His arms shook as he tried to support himself above San. He was likely unable because of how far he’d edged. He buried his face in the crook of San’s neck, but left enough space between their bodies for San’s hand to keep its pace. “Just keep touching me,” the blonde said. “Don’t stop.”

Every breath from Wooyoung came out in big puffs over San’s skin. The dark-haired felt hot and Wooyoung was also hot to the touch and San was still coming down from his high but Wooyoung was only just reaching the tipping point.

“Close,” Wooyoung groaned. San’s arm was so tired but Wooyoung was almost there and he just wanted it to be good. He picked up the pace and applied pressure to his handiwork. 

“C’mon then,” San encouraged.

Wooyoung’s body tensed. He released his load over San’s fist, and released a high-pitched moan right into San’s skin. The dark-haired could feel wetness all over his stomach. He slowed his hand, but didn’t stop until Wooyoung rode out the orgasm to completion. Until the sounds coming from Wooyoung’s mouth were little, pathetic whimpers signaling overstimulation. Until Wooyoung finally collapsed on top of him like a rag-doll.

San removed his hand (there was only one drop of cum on his thumb. A new record for cleanliness!) and ran his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair several times.

The “what now?” question has always been daunting. It probably always will be. But tonight, San was terrified.

Wooyoung adjusted himself slightly, but didn’t move off San. He only sighed. It sounded content, maybe even happy, but San was feeling optimistic. He wrapped his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulders and squeezed. If the cum covering his torso weren’t so uncomfortable, San would feel 100% elated. But there was cum covering his torso, so he was only 60% elated. He didn’t trust his voice until his breathing evened out. When it finally did, San couldn’t think of what to say. (Okay, he thought of a dozen things to say, but he couldn’t think of anything _ good _ to say.)

“As much as I’d love to just fall asleep in this wondrous afterglow, we need to get cleaned up. I am _ not _ falling asleep with cum on my chest again,” San drummed his fingers down Wooyoung’s spine.

“Fine. Better to not traumatize Mingi, I guess,” the blonde pushed himself up slightly, pecked San’s lips, and finally stood up. He walked naked into the apartment’s kitchen. San heard running water as he too rose from the sofa. He looked down at his torso and let out a small noise of disgust. He stepped into his boxers, gathered their clothes, and let his feet take him to Wooyoung’s bedroom.

The dark-haired dumped the fabric at the foot of the bed and sat down on the corner of the mattress. Before his mind could wander, a wet hand towel hit him in the face. San scrambled and let out a surprised noise while falling backwards onto the bed.

“Get cleaned up,” Wooyoung ordered. He rifled through a drawer and stepped into a pair of clean boxers.

San did as he was told. He inspected himself and saw red marks on the top of his chest where his vision cut off. He crumpled the hand towel and tossed it to the side. Wooyoung walked to him and stood in between his legs.

“How many?” San asked. He was referring to the hickies.

Wooyoung threaded his fingers in San’s hair. San felt himself relax into the touch. The blonde hummed in thought before saying, “Three. Maybe four. That’s tomorrow’s problem. Let’s go to bed.”

The pair fell onto the mattress and crawled up to the headboard. San settled half on top of Wooyoung. He rested his cheek on his chest. He could hear Wooyoung’s heart. It was comforting. San still couldn’t think of anything good to say. So he just pressed closer. In the end, they didn’t exchange a word. They both knew that words were feeble when compared to every touch and every look they did exchange.

**Author's Note:**

> did this turn into a netflix & chill pwp? yes. yes it did.


End file.
